


The Kids Are Alright (3.02)

by ackles_ass_equation



Series: Superghetto [47]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon - Manga, Canon Het Relationship, Episode: s03e02 The Kids Are Alright, F/M, Past Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 11:39:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7220851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_ass_equation/pseuds/ackles_ass_equation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam n' Dean track down Chizzlelings dat is pursuin mothers n' they lil' thugs fo' realz. A pimp they protect bears a strange resemblizzle ta Dean, which at first make Dean uncomfortable cuz he once had a one-night stand wit tha boyz mutha Lisa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NOW

EXT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SUBURBAN HOUSE – NIGHT

A lil' mutha is standin outside her doggy den wit a mix of worry n' impatience fo' realz. A hoopty pulls up tha fuck into tha driveway; a hoe of bout ten muthafuckin years steps out, as do her daddy n' shit. Da hoe runs ta her mutha n' hugs her muthafuckin ass.

 **MOM  
** Yo, dopeie yo. Hey. 

 **DAD  
** Hey. 

 **MOM  
** Thanks fo' rollin her back here. 

 **DAD  
** It aint nuthin but not like I had a cold-ass lil chizzle. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch pitched a gangbangin' fit. 

 **MOM**  
(to tha girl, whoz ass is huggin her tightly)  
Yo, dopeie. Whatz wrong?

 **GIRL  
** Nothing. I missed you, biatch. 

 **MOM  
** Okay yo, but tonightz yo' dadz night. 

 **GIRL  
** No. I don't like Dadz night. I don't want Dad ta git a night no mo'. 

 **MOM  
** Since when, biatch? Yo ass used ta ludd goin ta yo' dadz crib fo' realz. And, you know, he loves you, n' he misses you all muthafuckin day. 

 **GIRL  
** But I don't give a fuck bout it there! 

 **MOM  
** Yo ass don't don't give a fuck bout dat shit.

 **GIRL  
** Yes, I do! Dat punk mean, n' there be monstas there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. I don't w-wanna go back. Please don't let tha monstas git mah dirty ass. 

 **MOM (hugs kid)  
** Okay, dopeie. Okay.

INT. MAN'S WORKROOM – NIGHT

Da lil girlz daddy is up in his workroom; there be wood-carved object chillin about, n' one of dem circular table saws you straight-up don't wanna peep show up in a horror porno yo. Dude prepares ta leave, n' as da perved-out muthafucka shuttin off tha lights by tha door, tha table saw turns itself on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Curious, he approaches it, crouchin down at table-height ta shut it off fo' realz. As da perved-out muthafucka starts ta leave a second time, tha saw turns on again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. This time, when he leans over tha saw, a sudden whooshin seems ta rush over him, knockin his ass on his back ... n' onto tha table saw. On which he takes a thugged-out dirt nap a wack gruesome dirtnap.  
  
A wooden rockin cow on tha table starts rockin creakily. 


	2. ACT ONE

INT. DINER – NIGHT

SAM is chillin at a table up in a generic diner, hustlin on his fuckin laptop n' poppin' off on his thugged-out lil' phone. DEAN is nowhere ta be seen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM seems a lil' bit frantic.

 **SAM**  
What do you mean you don't be thinkin it will work, Bobby, biatch? It aint nuthin but a thugged-out demon-dispellin ritual. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack.   
(DEAN, who’s outside, raps on tha front window n' waves a packet of papers)  
Well, maybe we gots tha translation wrong.  
(Da door janglez up in tha background.)  
Look, we can't just let Dean fry up in hell while we- (pause, ta dig Bobby; his screen shows another translation up in process) ... Well, there be a gots ta be suttin' dat w-.   
(he sees DEAN approachin tha table)   
Oh, ah, yeah, no, ah, I I gotta go. Uh. Okay. Never mind.

SAM hangs up tha beeper doggystyle.

DEAN enters, lookin suspiciously at SAM. 

 **DEAN  
** Hey. Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck was that? 

 **SAM**  
(quickly)  
Ah, I was just orderin pizzy. 

 **DEAN**  
(lookin around)  
Dude, you do realize dat you up in a restaurant? 

 **SAM**  
Yeah. Yeah. Oh, yeah. I ... just felt like pizzy, you know?  
SAM smiles, tight-lipped n' reekin of insincerity.

 **DEAN**  
(sitting)  
O-kay, Weirdy Mcweirderton. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. (clears throat) So, I be thinkin I gots something. 

 **SAM  
** Yeah? 

 **DEAN  
** Cicero, Indiana. Falls on his own juice saw. 

 **SAM  
** And, biatch? What, thatz it, biatch? One juice saw? 

 **DEAN  
** Well... yeah. 

 **SAM  
** And you be thinkin dat dis be a cold-ass lil case? 

 **DEAN  
** Well, I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. Could be. 

 **SAM  
** I don't give a fuck, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I- I-

 **DEAN  
** All right, there be a suttin' betta ... betta up in Cicero than just a cold-ass lil case. 

 **SAM  
** And dat is? 

 **DEAN  
** Lisa Braeden. 

 **SAM (sighs)  
** Should I even ask? 

 **DEAN  
** Remember dat road trip I took, uh... gosh, bout eight muthafuckin years ago now, biatch? Yo ass was up in Orlando wit Dad wrappin up dat banshee thang. 

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Yeah, tha five states, five-dizzle-

 **DEAN  
** (laughs) Yeah. Well, kind of fo' realz. Although I dropped most of mah time up in Lisa Braedenz loft. 

 **SAM  
** So let me git dis straight. Yo ass want- you wanna drive all tha way ta Cicero just ta hook up wit some random chick? 

 **DEAN  
** Bitch was a yoga mackdaddy n' shit. Dat shiznit was tha bendiest weekend of mah game. Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Have a ass, huh, biatch? It aint nuthin but mah dyin wish. 

 **SAM  
** Yeah, well, how tha fuck nuff dyin wishes is you gonna get? 

 **DEAN**  
As nuff as I can squeeze out. Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Smile, Sam! Dogg knows I'ma be smilin afta 24 minutes wit Gumby girl.  
(chucklez ta his dirty ass; SAM laughs too, a lil)  
Gumby girl.   
(he frowns)  
Do dat make me Pokey? 

EXT. MOTEL – DAY

Pullin up outside a motel (Cicero Pines Motel) up in Cicero, Indiana, DEAN stops ta let SAM out.

 **DEAN  
** Don't wait up fo' me, Sammy.

DEAN starts ta drive off as SAM is still pullin his bag outta tha car, teasin SAM.

 **SAM  
** Wait, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Dean, you, biatch... Dean! 

DEAN drives off. SAM is left standin there like tha lil brutha dropped off before tha big-ass brotherz bangin' date. 

DEAN drives all up in a suburban pimpment, past houses bein newly constructed n' a sign fo' tha "Mornin Hill" hood dat notes "SOLD OUT!". 

EXT. LISA'S HOUSE – DAY

Outside a sickly kept suburban house, wit festizzle balloons, DEAN rings tha doorbell. Da door opens ta reveal LISA: late twenties, brunette, straight-up fit; her ass is gorgeous. DEAN smilez awkwardly; LISA stares at his ass up in mad drama fo' a moment, then recognizes his muthafuckin ass.

 **LISA  
** (with a funky-ass big-ass smile) Dean! 

 **DEAN  
** Lisa yo. Howz it going, biatch? 

 **LISA  
** Wow. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So, uh, how tha fuck long has it been? 

 **DEAN  
** Eight, goin on nine muthafuckin years now, nahmeean, biatch? Crazy, right? 

 **LISA  
** Yeah. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So, what tha fuck is you bustin here? 

 **DEAN  
** Oh, I was just- I was passin through, and, uh, I couldn't resist. I remember dat you ludd surprises. 

 **LISA**  
(chuckles) Yeah.  
Dean Winchesta n' shit. Wow. Just... wow. I be- I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. Yo ass kind of came at a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shitty-ass time. Our thugged-out asses havin a party. 

 **DEAN  
** A party, biatch? Well, I gots a straight-up boner fo' parties. Put ya muthafuckin choppers up if ya feel dis! (he hints, wit a smile)

Cut ta tha party, up in tha back yard. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Lil Pimps is hustlin round up in tha back yard, which is decorated fo' a kidz birthdizzle party.

 **DEAN  
** So, uh, whoz tha jam for?

 **LISA  
** Ben. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. My fuckin son. 

 **DEAN  
** Oh. Yo ass gotz a-

 **LISA  
** Yep. 

Bitch gestures across tha yard ta a lil' pimp bustin a funky-ass black jacket n' jeans yo. Dude is openin presents.

 **LISA  
** Thatz his muthafuckin ass. 

A lil' kid is openin a gift ta reveal a CD. 

 **BEN  
** Yes muthafucka! AC/DC rules!

 **DEAN  
** How tha fuck oldschool-

 **LISA**  
Eight.  
(she sees tha MOM from tha teaser enta tha yard)  
Oh, Dean, could you excuse me a minute?

 **DEAN**  
(stunned)  
Yeah, sure. Don't mind mah dirty ass.  
(he turns back ta peep BEN, whoz smokin a sandwich wit gusto)   
LISA strutts over ta tha other momma n' they embrace.

DEAN is lookin all up in tha birthdizzle cake, which has a racecar theme. Two dem hoes is chillin up in lawn chairs, watchin DEAN from behind. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! They're whisperin ta each up in ghetto hypein tones.

 **WOMAN1 (brunette)  
** Did yo dirty ass hear Lisa call his ass "Dean"? 

 **WOMAN2 (redhead)  
** Yeah. Why? 

 **WOMAN1  
** Yo ass don't give a fuck bout Dean, biatch? Da Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Best-night-of-my-life Dean? 

 **WOMAN2  
** No! Tell mah dirty ass. 

 **WOMAN1  
** Oh, mah god, so, they had dis crazy, semi-illegal-

Bitch cuts off as her big-ass booty sees DEAN approach; WOMAN2 gasps. 

 **DEAN, seein dem starin at him  
** Hi. 

Da dem hoes continue ta stare at his ass wit a cold-ass lil certain lascivious intensity.

 **WOMAN1  
** Hi. 

 **WOMAN2**  
Hello.  
(she crunches a piece of celery, loudly n' somehow suggestively) 

DEAN looks straight-up uncomfortable, smilez nervously, n' flees. Da dem hoes peep each other n' shit. 

DEAN findz BEN watchin a funky-ass bounce-house n' smokin a piece of cake.

 **BEN  
** Whatz good? 

 **DEAN  
** Whatz fuckin' phat wit yo slick ass? 

A biatch n' her lil hoe strutt by; up in unison, DEAN checks up tha momma as BEN checks up tha girl. Then they each take a funky-ass bite of cake. 

 **DEAN  
** So, itz yo' birthday. 

 **BEN  
** Guilty. 

 **DEAN  
** It aint nuthin but a cold-ass lil def party. 

 **BEN  
** Dude, itz so freakin' dope fo' realz. And dis moon bounce- itz epic. 

 **DEAN**  
(slightly weirded out)  
Yeah. It aint nuthin but pretty phat. 

 **BEN  
** Yo ass know whoz ass else be thinkin they phat, biatch? Chicks. It aint nuthin but like hot-chick hood up there.

BEN smacks DEAN on tha chest bro-to-bro.

DEAN watches bemusedly as BEN sets his cake down n' bigs up a hoe tha fuck into tha moon bounce. 

 **BEN  
** Look up ladies, here comes shiznit biaatch!

DEAN watches him, rolls his wild lil' fuckin eyes up in his head as da ruffneck do menstrual arithmetic, then darts inside tha house, knockin thangs over as he goes.

INT. KITCHEN – DAY

LISA is poppin' off ta tha MOM, whoz ass is lookin straight-up frazzled.

 **LISA  
** So... how tha fuck you holdin up? 

 **MOM  
** Fine. 

 **LISA  
** Really? 

 **MOM (shrugs, sighs)  
** Well, you know. ... I just... never mind. 

 **LISA  
** What? 

 **MOM  
** It aint nuthin but just ... I be worried, bout Katie. I be thinkin there might be suttin' ... wack wit her muthafuckin ass. 

 **LISA  
** Of course there is. Da skanky hoe just lost her dad. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dat hoe devastated. 

 **MOM  
** No. That- that’s not what tha fuck I be poppin' off about. There is suttin' straight-up ... wack ... wit her n' shit. (pause, while she looks up at her daughter) I aint shizzle dat Katie is... Katie. 

 **LISA  
** What? 

 **MOM  
** I aint shizzle thatz mah daughter. 

 **LISA  
** I know you grievin yo, but you can't rap like dis shit. Katie needz you n' aint a thugged-out damn thang dat yo' ass can do. 

 **MOM  
** Fuck dat shit, you don't KNOW-

 **LISA  
** Seriously. We gonna git you help. It'll be aiiight. 

Da MOM shakes her head n' runs outside ta her daughter n' shit. 

 **MOM**  
(outside)  
Katie, biatch? Come on, our slick asses leaving. 

DEAN entas tha kitchen. 

 **DEAN  
** Hey. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So, I, uh ... kicked it wit Ben. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. (Lisa, distracted, looks at him, noddin absent-mindedly.) Def kid. 

 **LISA  
** Yeah. 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. ... Yo ass know, I couldn't help but notice that, uh, tha pimpin' muthafucka turnin eight. Yo ass n' mah crazy ass ... you know. 

 **LISA**  
(chuckles, as she finally gets what tha fuck DEAN is gettin at)  
Yo ass aint ... tryin ta ask me if he yours? 

 **DEAN**  
No. Nah, of course not.  
(they both chuckle)  
(beat)  
Dat punk not, is he?

 **LISA**  
What, biatch? (startled, slammin tha oven door up in her surprise)  
(he raises his wild lil' fuckin eyebrows)  
No.

 **DEAN**  
Right.  
(pause; watches BEN outside, gesticulatin up in a mini-DEAN fashion)  
Yeah... (clears throat)

Outside, KATIEz MOM is poppin' off ta her muthafuckin ass.

 **MOM  
** Katie, dopeheart, we gots ta bounce tha fuck out. Okay. Come on. 

KATIE n' her MOM strutt past tha kitchen on they way out. 

 **MOM  
** Come on, Katie. 

 **DEAN  
** Somethang wack wit yo' playa? 

 **LISA  
** Dat hoe been all up in all muthafuckin day. It make me wanna hollar playa! Her ex just took a dirt nap up in dis wack accident. 

 **DEAN  
** Oh, yeah. Didn't I just read bout that, biatch? The, uh, tha juice saw. 

 **LISA  
** Yeah. Guess there be a funky-ass been a shitload of shitty luck up in tha hood lately.

 **DEAN  
** What kind of shitty luck? 

INT. DINER – DAY

SAM is chillin ridin' solo up in a gangbangin' finger-lickin' diner again, wit his fuckin laptop open, again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. A lil' biatch sits down across from him: it is Creepy Stalker Girl from last week (letz call her RUBY fo' simplicity).

 **RUBY  
** Yo muthafucka, Sam.


	3. ACT TWO

INT. DINER – DAY

 **SAM**  
You've been followin me since Lincoln.   
(she closes his fuckin laptop) 

 **RUBY**  
Not much gets by you, huh?  
(she takes one of his wild lil' fries)  
Mmm. These is amazing. It aint nuthin but like deep-fried crack. Try some.

SAM scoffs.

 **SAM  
** That knife you had. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Yo ass can bust a cap up in demons wit dat thang? 

 **RUBY  
** Sure comes up in handy when I gotta swoop up in n' save tha damsel up in distress. 

 **SAM  
** Where'd you git it?

 **RUBY**  
Skymall.   
(she takes a plate n' squeezes ketchup onto it) 

 **SAM  
** Why is you followin me son? 

 **RUBY  
** I be horny bout you, biatch. 

 **SAM  
** Why? 

 **RUBY  
** Because you tall. I gots a straight-up boner fo' a tall man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. And then there be a tha whole antichrist thang. 

 **SAM  
** Excuse me son? 

 **RUBY  
** Yo ass know, generation of psycho kids, Yellow-Eyed Demon roundz you up, celebritizzle dirtnap match ensues. Yo ass is tha sole survivor. 

 **SAM  
** How tha fuck do you know bout that? 

 **RUBY  
** I be a phat hustla n' shit. So, Yellow Eyes had some pretty big-ass plans fo' you, Sam. 

 **SAM  
** "Had" bein tha key word. 

 **RUBY  
** Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. Thatz right. Ding-dong, tha demonz dead as fuckin fried chicken. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Dope thang wit dis shit. Well shiiiit, it don't chizzle tha fact dat you special ... up in dat Anthony Mike Hall E.S.P. visions kind of way. 

 **SAM**  
(firmly)  
No. Fuck dat shit, thatz stuffz not goin' down no mo'. Not since Yellow-Eyes died. 

 **RUBY  
** Well, I be thankin you still a pimpin' big-ass deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. I mean, afta all dat bidnizz wit yo' momma. 

 **SAM  
** What bout mah mom? 

 **RUBY**  
Yo ass know, what tha fuck happened ta her playas.  
(off his thugged-out attempted poker face)  
Yo ass ... don't give a gangbangin' fuck. (pause) You've gots a lil bit of catchin up ta do, mah playa yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin'. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So, why don't you look tha fuck into yo' momz pals…  
(she writes a number on his hand)   
…and then break me off a cold-ass lil call n' we'll rap again, biatch?   
(she gets up ta leave)  
And, by tha way, you do know there be a a thang up in dis town, right?  
(she turns ta go again)

Sam’s beeper rings.

 **SAM  
** Hello.

DEAN is up in his hoopty outside LISA’s.

 **DEAN  
** Dude, there be a thang here.

 **SAM  
** Really? 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. Yo ass know dat one freak accident we read bout up in tha paper, biatch? Turns up there be a gangbangin' four mo' dat never even made tha paper, all up in dis ... Mornin Hill gated hood. Muthafuckas fallin off of laddaz n' drownin up in they Jacuzzis all over tha hood. 

 **SAM  
** That is weird. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, somethingz up. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Somethang these sick, big-ass gates can't protect dem from. 

INT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SUBURBAN HOUSE – NIGHT

KATIE'S MOM is dozing, wit tha book  _Da Historian_  by Elizabeth Kostova (a vampire novel) on tha pillow. KATIE is watchin her muthafuckin ass.

 **MOM (stirring, waking, chillin up)**  
(gasps)  
Katie. What is you bustin? 

 **KATIE  
** Play wit me, mommy. 

 **MOM  
** Okay. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sure. Yeah let's, um, letz play. 

 **KATIE**  
Oh, good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg!   
(she hugs her mother)   
I gots a straight-up boner fo' you, mommy. 

 **MOM  
** I gots a straight-up boner fo' you too, dopeie. 

KATIE’S MOM catches sight of KATIE’s reflection up in a mirror yo. Her skin is gray, veined n' blotchy. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch pushes KATIE back up in alarm, only ta find dat she looks normal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Biatch looks aiiight up in tha mirror now, like a muthafucka. 

 **KATIE  
** I be hungry, mommy. 

 **MOM (noddin her head, shaken)  
** Yeah. 

KATIE watches her blankly as MOM turns toward tha kitchen.

EXT fo' realz. ANOTHER SUBURBAN HOUSE - DAY  
  
SAM, dressed up in a thugged-out dark suit n' posin as a insurizzle agent, is bustin lyrics ta another lil' mother.

 **SAM  
** So, once again, I be straight-up sorry ta disturb you, biatch. Us playas just straight-up wanna expedite dat game-insurizzle policy. 

 **MOTHER  
** Of course. 

 **SAM**  
Okay.   
(she takes his ass round back, where a ladder leans against tha wall)

 **MOTHER  
** This is, um, where he fell. 

 **SAM  
** I see. Now, how tha fuck exactly did he-

 **MOTHER  
** Dude was just inside changin a light bulb. Must have lost his balance. 

 **SAM  
** Were you here when dis happened, biatch? 

 **MOTHER  
** No. I was out. Uh, tha only one here was our daughter, Dakota. 

Inside, a Creepy Little Girl is lookin up at dem wild-ass muthafuckas. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Somethang dark red is smudged on tha window n' railing.

 **SAM  
** Okay. (pause, while he looks around, from tha daughta ta tha red smear) Well, uh, I be thinkin thatz all I need. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **MOTHER  
** Okay. 

 **SAM  
** I be bout ta git outta yo' way now, nahmeean? 

 **MOTHER  
** Nuff props, biatch. 

Bitch turns n' goes up tha steps wit SAM behind her n' shiznit yo. Dude sees a strange fuck-up on tha back of her neck: itz a oval, wit multiple dots round it, like tha mark from a sucker or teeth.

INT. KATIE'S HOUSE – DAY

KATIE’S MOM is bustin a toasted sandwich. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch puts a hand ta tha back of her neck, as if up in pain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch sets tha sandwich up in front of KATIE. 

 **KATIE  
** Nuff props, mommy. 

 **MOM  
** Yo ass eat. Mommy is ghon be right back.

KATIE stars balefully all up in tha sandwich, while KATIE'S MOM leaves tha room. Frazzled almost ta tha deal wit breaking, KATIE'S MOM entas tha bathroom n' locks tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch looks at her neck up in tha mirror, noticin a red mark, then startlez at a sudden bangin on tha bathroom door.

 **KATIE**  
(poundin on tha door)  
Mommy? 

 **MOMMY**  
Just- just give Mommy a second.  
(Bitch looks up in tha mirror all up in tha mark.)

 **KATIE  
** Let me in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Mommy dawwwwg! Let me in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. (pounding) Mommy dawwwwg! Let me in! (pounding) What is you bustin?! (pounding) Let me in! Let me in! Let me in! Let me in! Let me in! Let me in! (pounding) 

 **MOM  
** Give Mommy a minute! 

Da poundin n' rattlin continue ta build, until it stops suddenly as tha doorbell rings. MOM goes up ta tha front door, where tha REDHEADED WOMAN, aka WOMAN2 from tha (leching-at-DEAN scene up in ACT ONE, is holdin up a gift basket n' bustin lyrics ta KATIE.

 **REDHEADED WOMAN  
** Aren't you just tha cutest thang? 

 **MOM**  
(takin tha basket)  
Oh, fuck you, biatch. Uh, Katie, could you put these up in tha kitchen, please? 

KATIE takes tha basket n' goes ta tha kitchen.

 **REDHEADED WOMAN  
** Katie seems all gravy, thankin bout-. 

 **MOM  
** Dat hoe fine. Yeah. Um, look, I be-

 **REDHEADED WOMAN  
** And you- how tha fuck is yo dirty ass bustin straight-up? 

 **MOM  
** I be fine. Look, we fine. Um, dis aint a phat time. 

 **REDHEADED WOMAN  
** I wasn't shizzle if you was keepin tha doggy den or selling. We at Cicero Realty wanna-

 **MOM  
** Look, I holla'd at you, it aint a phat time! 

Bitch shuts tha door n' leans against it, sighing.

 **KATIE  
** I want ice cream! Mommy. Ice cream, please. 


	4. ACT THREE

EXT. PARK - DAY 

DEAN is struttin back ta his car, when he notices BEN chillin sadly on a park bench.

DEAN sees him, n' goes over n' sits next ta his muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN  
** Yo, Ben. 

 **BEN  
** Hey. Yo ass was at mah party. 

 **DEAN**  
Yeah. Yeah, I be Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.   
(he sits down next ta BEN)   
Everythang aiiight, biatch? Somethang wrong?  
(Dean notices dat BEN is holdin a empty case yo. Dude looks up all up in tha field n' sees a crew of four thugs playin wit a Gameboy-type thang)  
Is dat yo' game they playin with? 

 **BEN  
** Ryan Humphrey borrowed it, n' now da thug won't give it back. 

 **DEAN  
** Well, you want me ta go-

 **BEN  
** No! Don't go over there biaaatch! Only biiiatches bust a grown-up. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass aint wrong. 

 **BEN  
** And I aint a funky-ass biiiatch. 

 **DEAN  
** Is dat Humphrey, biatch? Da one dat need ta lay off tha burgers? 

BEN nods, smilin slightly.

 **DEAN  
** Hm.

CUT TO:

BEN strutts across tha park ta tha crew of thugs. They is all bigger than he yo. Dude clears his cold-ass throat loudly n' looks back at DEAN, whoz ass gives his ass a thumb’s up yo. Dude clears his cold-ass throat again.

 **BEN  
** Ryan. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. (Kidz look up.) I'd like mah game back, please. 

 **RYAN**  
(threateningly)  
Fine. Take it back. 

Da other thugs laugh. BEN looks nervously all up in tha other kids, sighs, then turns as if ta muthafuckin bounce.

 **RYAN  
** See, biatch? Told you muthafuckas da thug was a-

RYAN cuts off as BEN turns back suddenly n' kicks RYAN hard between tha legs. RYAN crumplez ta tha ground, n' BEN takes tha game back. DEAN looks around, smirking. Dude runs back ta tha bench n' a grinnin DEAN. 

 **BEN  
** Thanks. Dude, dat was phat! 

 **LISA**  
(who has peeped tha end of tha exchange)  
Benjamin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Isaac. Braeden! Whatz gotten tha fuck into yo slick ass? 

 **BEN  
** Dude stole mah game. 

 **LISA**  
So you kick him, biatch? Since when is-  
(she breaks off, lookin at DEAN, whoz ass is still grinning)   
Did yo dirty ass tell mah lil hustla ta beat up dat kid? 

 **DEAN  
** What, biatch? Some Muthafucka had ta teach his ass how tha fuck ta kick tha bully up in tha nads. 

 **LISA  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck axed you ta teach his ass anything? 

 **DEAN  
** Just chillax. 

 **LISA**  
What is you even still bustin here, biatch? Our thugged-out asses had one weekend together a mazillion muthafuckin years ago. Yo ass don't give a fuck mah dirty ass fo' realz. And you have no bidnizz wit mah son.  
(Bitch stalks over ta Lil' Bow Wow n' grabs his ass ta strutt off wit his muthafuckin ass.)

 **DEAN  
** Lisa. 

 **LISA  
** Just leave our asses ridin' solo. 

  
Bitch n' BEN begin ta leave yo, but BEN pulls outta her grip n' runs back ta give DEAN a impulsive hug.

 **LISA  
** Ben! 

 **BEN (huggin DEAN)  
** Thanks. 

Dude runs back ta LISA n' they muthafuckin bounce. DEAN watches dem speculatively, until he notices three lil pimps wit creepy stares watching.

INT. KATIE & MOM'S CAR – NIGHT

MOM is strappin KATIE tha fuck into her hoopty seat, which is made hard as fuck by tha fact dat KATIE keeps touchin n' pettin her muthafuckin ass.

 **KATIE  
** I gots a straight-up boner fo' you most up in tha whole wide ghetto, Mommy. 

 **MOM  
** Um, me too, dopeie. Come on, hold still. 

Bitch checks tha mirror n' sees a monsta wit a big-ass suckin grill up in tha backseat. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch turns around yo, but KATIE looks normal. 

 **KATIE  
** Whatz wrong, Mommy? 

 **MOM  
** Nothing, dopeie. Nothing. 

 **KATIE  
** Is we goin fo' ice cream now? 

 **MOM  
** Yeah, we goin fo' ice cream. 

MOM finishes strappin KATIE in, n' gets up in tha driverz seat. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch drives tha hoopty ta tha edge of a lake, is crying, puts tha hoopty up in neutral, gets out, n' watches tha hoopty roll in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. KATIE turns n' watches MOM as she goes down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. MOM watches n' cries. Put ya muthafuckin choppers up if ya feel dis! 

MOM returns home n' goes inside, slammin n' lockin tha door behind her n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch is bustin up like a biatch brokenly. In tha kitchen, seated over a puddle of water, is KATIE. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch is drippin wet.

 **KATIE**  
Yea muthafucka, Mommy.  
Can I have tha ice cream now?  
(KATIE smilez winsomely. MOM gapes up in horror.)

INT. MOTEL ROOM – NIGHT

SAM be at his computer, bustin research. DEAN enters.

 **DEAN  
** Somethingz wack wit tha lil playas up in dis town. 

 **SAM**  
Yeah. Tell me bout dat shit.  
(he is lookin at a joint on "CHANGELING LORE")  
So, what tha fuck do you know bout chizzlelings? 

 **DEAN  
** Evil monsta babies? 

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, not necessarily babies.

 **DEAN**  
(realizing)  
They're kids. Creepy, "stare at you like you lunch" kids? 

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Therez one at every last muthafuckin victimz house. 

LATER, SAM is seated on tha bed, as DEAN prepares a kerosene torch.

 **SAM  
** So, chizzlelings can perfectly mimic lil' thugs. Accordin ta lore, they climb up in tha window, snatch tha kid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Y'know, there was marks on tha windowsill at one of tha kidz houses. Looked ta me like blood. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! 

They continue poppin' off up in voice-over as tha scene shifts ta KATIE'S house. MOM be asleep, wit a funky-ass forty of pizzlez on tha bedside table. KATIE stares at MOM, brushes back tha afro from her neck ta reveal a 'odd bruise' yo. Her grill morphs ta look kind of like tha Flukeman from X-Files, n' she leans up in ta MOM'S neck.

 **DEAN (v.o.)  
** Da chizzlelin grabs a kid, assumes its form, joins tha aiiight fam just fo' kicks? 

 **SAM  
** Not quite. Chizzlelings feed on tha mom: synovial fluid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da moms have these odd bruises on tha back of they necks. Chizzlelings can drain dem fo' all dem weeks before momma finally croaks. 

 **DEAN  
** And then there be a thugged-out daddy n' tha babysitter n' shit. 

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Seems like mah playas whoz ass gets between tha chizzlelin n' its chicken source endz up dead as fuckin fried chicken. 

 **DEAN**  
(holdin up tha torch)  
And firez tha only way ta waste them? 

 **SAM (nodding)  
** Yup.

 **DEAN  
** Great. We bout ta just bust in, drag tha lil playas out, torch dem on tha front lawn. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. That'ill play pimped out wit tha neighbors. What bout tha real ones, biatch? What happens ta them? 

 **SAM  
** Accordin ta lore, they stash dem underground somewhere, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. I don't give a fuck why yo, but if itz true, tha real lil playas might be up there. 

 **DEAN**  
We betta start looking.  
(beat)  
So, any kid up in tha hood is vulnerable? 

 **SAM  
** Yep.

 **DEAN  
** We gotta cook up a stop. I wanna check on one of mah thugs. 

 **SAM  
** Well Dean, if tha real lil playas is still kickin it, our phat asses aint gots time. We-

 **DEAN  
** Our thugged-out asses have to. 

EXT. LISA'S HOUSE – NIGHT

DEAN rings tha doorbell, n' LISA opens tha door lookin bewildered.

 **LISA**  
Dean, biatch? What a-

 **DEAN (breakin in)  
** I was thinking... Benz birthday. It make me wanna hollar playa! I didn't even brang his ass a present. 

 **LISA  
** Thatz all gravy. 

 **DEAN**  
No. Fuck dat shit, no, I feel shitty, so, uh...  
(handz her a cold-ass lil credit card)  
Here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Take a long-ass weekend- just tha two of y'all- on mah dirty ass. 

 **LISA  
** What? 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, I hear Six Flags is pimped out dis time of year. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Go now fo' realz. Avoid tha traffic. 

 **LISA**  
(readin tha name on tha card)  
"Siegfried Houdini." Whose card is this? 

 **DEAN  
** Mine. (LISA nodz skeptically.) Never mind. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! It'll work. I promise. 

 **LISA  
** Yo ass should muthafuckin bounce. 

 **DEAN  
** Lisa... 

 **BEN**  
(comin down tha stairs)  
Mommy, what’s wrong? 

 **DEAN  
** Nothing, Ben. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. It aint nuthin but cool. 

 **BEN (tonelessly)  
** Make his ass go away, mommy. 

 **LISA  
** Yo ass heard his muthafuckin ass. Git out. 

 **DEAN  
** Lisa... I don't be thinkin that’s a phat idea. 

 **LISA  
** Git out! 

DEAN watches LISA n' BEN from outside tha house. LISA is readin a funky-ass book. BEN is chillin wit a open book, starin at his crazy-ass mutha n' shit. DEAN notices a thugged-out damp red mark on a cold-ass lil couple window frames yo. Dude runs back ta SAM, who’s up in tha Impala. 

 **DEAN  
** They took Ben. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Dat punk chizzled. 

 **SAM  
** What?! Is you sure? 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, I be sure. I checked his windowsill. 

 **SAM  
** Blood? 

 **DEAN  
** I don't be thinkin it is blood, n' I be thinkin I know where tha lil playas are. 

EXT yo. HOUSE-UNDER-CONSTRUCTION – NIGHT

Therez a big-ass mound of dirt outside tha semi-finished home, wit a "Cicero Realty For Sale" sign. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM picks some up n' inspects it on his wild lil' fingers.

 **SAM  
** Red dirt. Thatz what tha fuck was on tha window. 

 **DEAN  
** Ah, you take tha front. I be bout ta go around. 

INT yo. HOUSE-UNDER-CONSTRUCTION – NIGHT

Inside, DEAN n' SAM wander bout wit flashlights, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. DEAN hears a noise up in tha basement n' goes ta inspect, findin a seriez of cages, each containin abducted lil playas yo. Dude sees BEN.

 **DEAN  
** Ben... Ben... itz all gravy. I'ma git you outta here, aiiight? 

Suddenly, tha REDHEADED WOMAN (Cicero Real Estate lady) entas n' sees SAM.

 **REDHEADED WOMAN  
** What do you be thinkin you bustin, biatch? 

SAM sees her monster-like reflection up in a pane of glass.


	5. ACT FOUR

INT yo. HOUSE-UNDER-CONSTRUCTION – NIGHT

 **WOMAN  
** This is private property. I be callin tha police. 

CUT ta DEAN, below.

DEAN is movin round tha cages. Dude findz tha real version of tha REDHEADED Real Estate Biatch up in a cold-ass lil cage. 

 **REDHEADED WOMAN/MONSTER**  
Yo ass heard mah crazy ass biaaatch! Git up playa!  
(she advances slowly towardz SAM)

 **SAM**  
(reachin fo' his bag)  
Ah, I could- just let me git mah bag. I be going. I, I don't mean ta cause any shit.

SAM reaches fo' his bag n' pulls up a gangbangin' flame-thrower which he aims at her; there be a whooshin noise n' dat freaky freaky biatch has apparently disappeared. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! SAM looks around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

INT. LISA'S HOUSE – NIGHT

BEN starts actin like a Creepy Child, standin stiff-armed up in tha livin room.

LISA is deeply engrossed up in her book.

 **BEN  
** Mommy? 

 **LISA (startles)  
** Ben...

 **BEN  
** Play wit mah dirty ass. 

 **LISA  
** This aint funky no mo'. I put you ta bed three times already. 

 **BEN**  
(huggin her)  
I don't wanna git all up in bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! (I wanna be wit you, Mommy.)

 **LISA  
** Thatz dope, hon.

DEAN is openin BENz cage. Dude pulls BEN outta tha cage n' hugs his muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN  
** Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Letz go. 

DEAN sets BEN down n' rufflez his hair.

 **DEAN  
** All right, come on. 

LISA'S HOUSE 

 **BEN  
** I be hungry. 

 **LISA  
** Mini pizzys all gravy, biatch? Deluxe be all we've got. 

 **BEN  
** Okay. 

 **LISA**  
(turnin away)   
Thatz funky- I thought we was anti-olives dis month. 

Bitch looks down n' sees BEN'S reflection up in tha glass table; it has tha icky Flukeman face. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch gasps.

INT yo. HOUSE-UNDER-CONSTRUCTION – NIGHT

DEAN breaks open cages n' he n' BEN help lil pimps out. 

 **BEN**  
It aint nuthin but all gravy. You’re gonna git outta here, all right, biatch?   
Hurry hommie!

 **DEAN**  
Come on, girls muthafucka! Come on! Keep moving, keep moving.  
Okay, dem hoes back! All Y'all back!  
(he clears off a windowsill n' prepares ta smash tha glass)

 **(BEN helps ta usher tha other lil playas away)  
** Cover yo' eyes! 

Dude breaks tha window wit a plank of wood, n' begins ta brush tha glass off.

 **BEN**  
(takes off his jacket)  
Here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Use this. 

 **DEAN  
** All right fo' realz. All right, Ben. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Come on. 

 **BEN**  
(indicatin another kid)  
Him first. 

 **SAM**  
(runnin in)  
Yo dawwwwg! Dean! Therez a mother. 

 **DEAN  
** A mutha chizzleling, biatch? 

 **SAM  
** Yeah. We gots ta git these lil playas up quick. 

 **DEAN  
** Right there, right there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Therez one mo' n' mo' n' mo'. Yo ass gots ta break tha lock! 

 **SAM  
** I guess thatz why tha chizzlelings is keepin tha lil playas kickin it- so tha momma can snack on dem wild-ass muthafuckas. 

 **SAM (freein tha real REDHEADED WOMAN)**  
There, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Come on, I gotcha.   
Da real KATIE screams as her big-ass booty sees tha mutha chizzlelin behind her n' shit.

INT. LISA'S HOUSE - NIGHT 

 **!BEN  
** Whatz wrong, Mommy? 

 **LISA  
** Yo ass aint mah son. 

 **!BEN  
** Yes, I am.

 **LISA  
** Wherez Ben? 

 **!BEN  
** I be Ben. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I gots a straight-up boner fo' you, Mommy. 

LISA runs up tha front door, grabbin her keys along tha way. On tha front lawn, a line of three Creepy Kidz has formed, blockin her exit. They start ta advizzle towardz her n' shit. Biatch runs back inside n' slams tha door, turnin round ta see !BEN.

 **!BEN  
** They don't want you ta leave me, Mommy. 

INT. KATIE'S HOUSE – NIGHT

KATIE'S MOM is up in tha bathroom again, huddled on tha floor, sobbing, as !KATIE screams n' poundz all up in tha door.

 **!KATIE  
** Mommy, biatch? Mommy, biatch? Let me in! What is you bustin?! Let me in! Let me in! Let me in! Let me in! 

INT yo. HOUSE-UNDER-CONSTRUCTION – NIGHT

DEAN goes flyin n' landz on his back, groanin up in pain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Da Chizzlelin Momma turns around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! SAM has tha flamethrower n' a lighter n' shit. Biatch kicks tha lighta outta his hand, then roundhouse kicks his ass again, then throws all dem punches n' generally kicks his thugged-out ass, before throwin his ass across tha room. DEAN has gotten ta his wild lil' feet, n' lunges afta her wit a 2x4. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch punches n' knocks DEAN down again.

 **DEAN  
** Ben, git dem outta here biaaatch! 

DEAN, on his knees, grabs a funky-ass brick n' surges ta his wild lil' feet again n' again n' again ta clock tha Chizzlelin Mom.

BEN helps tha other lil playas up n' up tha window, n' climbs up his dirty ass, as DEAN fights wit tha Chizzlelin Mom. Eventually she faces DEAN n' SAM ta peep SAM wit tha torch; SAM burns her ta a cold-ass lil crisp wit DEAN'S homemade torch. 

As she goes up in flames, !BEN, !KATIE, n' all tha other chizzlelin kids, also disappear up in flames, beatboxin "Aaaaahhh!" n' "Mommy!"


	6. ACT FIVE

EXT. LISA'S HOUSE – DAY

DEAN n' SAM drive BEN back home; he runs up ta gangbang his crazy-ass momma.

 **LISA  
** Ben?! Ben! Baby, is you aiiight? 

 **BEN  
** I be aiiight, Mom. 

 **LISA  
** Oh, mah god. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! (sobbing) What tha hell just happened? 

 **DEAN  
** I be bout ta explain every last muthafuckin thang if you want me ta yo, but, trust me, you probably don't. Da blingin thang is, is dat Benz safe. 

 **LISA  
** Nuff props, biatch. (Bitch hugs DEAN.) Nuff props, biatch. 

 **SAM  
** I'ma hit you wit muthafuckas some time.

 **LISA (smilin at her son)  
** Come on.

Bitch leadz tha way back tha fuck into tha doggy den n' DEAN bigs up.

INT. LISA'S HOUSE - DAY 

BEN is chillin all up in tha kitchen table, listenin ta suttin' on his thugged-out lil' portable CD playa n' shit. DEAN n' LISA rap up in tha hallway.

 **LISA  
** Changelings? 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass know how tha fuck I never mentioned mah thang, biatch? This is mah thang. 

 **LISA**  
I so didn't wanna know all dis bullshit.  
(lookin at BEN)  
Do you be thinkin he'll be aiiight? 

 **DEAN**  
Yeah. I be thinkin he'll be fine.   
(beat) Okay, seriously... I mean, you a hundred cement shizzle dat he aint mine, right? 

 **LISA**  
(smiling)  
Yo ass is off tha hook. I did a funky-ass blood test when da thug was a funky-ass baby. 

 **DEAN  
** Oh. 

 **LISA**  
There was dis muthafucka- some bar back up in a funky-ass biker joint.  
(off DEAN'S look)  
What, biatch? I had a type. Leather jacket, couple scars, no mailin address, biatch? I was there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Guess I was a lil wild back then. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. (pause, looks at BEN) Before I became a momma. (turns back ta DEAN) So yeah. Yo ass can chillax. 

 **DEAN  
** Good. 

Dude looks at BEN a lil wistfully. 

 **LISA  
** I... I swear you look pissed tha fuck off. 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. It aint nuthin but weird, you know yo' game... I mean, dis doggy den n' a kid... it aint mah game. Never will be. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Some shiznit happened ta me recently, and, uh.. fo' realz. Anyway, a muthafucka up in mah thang- you start ta think, you know. I'ma be gone one day, n' what tha fuck is I leavin behind besides a cold-ass lil car, biatch? 

 **LISA  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. Lil' Bow Wow may not be yo' kid yo, but ... da thug wouldn't be kickin it if it wasn't fo' you, biatch. Thatz a shitload if you ask mah dirty ass. 

 **DEAN (looks back n' headz fo' tha door)  
** Yo ass know, just fo' tha record... you gots a pimped out kid. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I would've been proud as a muthafucka ta be his fuckin lil' dad. 

Bitch kisses his muthafuckin ass. 

 **LISA (laughs a lil)  
** Look, if, um... if you wanna stick round fo' a while... you welcome ta stay. 

 **DEAN**  
(wistful pause)  
I can't. I gots a shitload of work ta do, n' it aint mah game.

Bitch smilez at his muthafuckin ass. Dude smilez at her n' leaves.

INT. MOTEL ROOM – DAY

This sequence bigs up SAM up in jump-cuts as tha pimpin' muthafucka talks ta nuff muthafuckin different playas on tha phone, while systematically crossin names off a list.

 **SAM**  
Yo! I needed ta check some facts wit your, uh, wit yo' secretary on some gangbangin' fire dat occurred on November 24, 2006 up in Lawrence, Kansas yo. Hardecker was his name.  
Okay. Great.  
I was just tryin ta smoke up tha date da ruffneck died.   
This is five-o chizzle Phil Jones. July 13th.   
Yo ass betta check tha recordz fo' a Robert Campbell?   
July 19, 2001.   
Dead on arrival.   
What I be afta is, is, is cause of dirtnap.   
Heart condition?   
Wasn't he a cold-ass lil cardiac surgeon, biatch? Wouldn't dat schmoooove muthafucka have known bout that?   
I be lookin fo' shiznit on... on Mrs. Wallacez dirtnap.   
Two dirtnaps. Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck was tha other, biatch? ... Ed Campbell.   
Any survivors?   
Fuck dat shit, that’s all I needed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Nuff props straight-up much. 

Dude tosses tha beeper onto tha bed n' puts his head up in his hands.

 **SAM  
** Oh, mah god. 

LATER, up in another room fo' realz. Bout halfway all up in SAM'S first statement itz revealed dat da perved-out muthafucka bustin lyrics ta RUBY.

 **SAM  
** They're dead as fuckin fried chicken. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. All of dem wild-ass muthafuckas fo' realz. All of mah momz playaz yo. Her doctor, her uncle- all dem fools dat eva knew her, systematically wiped off tha map one at a time. (laughs) Someone went all up in a hell of a shitload of shiznit tryin ta cover they tracks. 

 **RUBY  
** Yep. Da Yellow-Eyed Demon. 

 **SAM  
** So, whatz yo' deal, biatch? Yo ass show up wherever I am. Yo ass know all bout mah dirty ass. Yo ass know all bout mah momma.

 **RUBY  
** I already holla'd at you, biatch. I be-

 **SAM  
** Oh, right, right. Yeah, yeah. Just a hustla n' shit. Just some hunta whoz ass happens ta know mo' bout mah own crew than I do. (pause) Just tell me whoz ass yo ass is. 

 **RUBY  
** Sam, it-

 **SAM  
** Just... tell me whoz ass yo ass is. 

 **RUBY (laughing)  
** It don't matter. 

 **SAM**  
(shoutin up in her face)  
Just tell me whoz ass yo ass is! 

 **RUBY  
** Fine.

Bitch blinks her eyes once n' they go demon-black; da hoe blinks again n' again n' again n' they become normal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM backs up, fumblin up in his bag. 

 **RUBY  
** Think twice before goin fo' dat holy water. 

 **SAM**  
(pullin up a gangbangin' flask n' holdin it out)  
Just give me one reason I should. 

 **RUBY  
** I be here ta help you, Sam. 

 **SAM  
** Is dis some kind of joke? 

 **RUBY  
** Godz real truth... or whatever. 

 **SAM  
** Yo ass be a thugged-out demon. 

 **RUBY  
** Don't be such a racist. I be here cuz I wanna help you, biatch fo' realz. And I can if ... you trust mah dirty ass. 

 **SAM  
** Trust yo slick ass, biatch? (he holdz up tha flask of holy water) 

 **RUBY  
** Sam, quit trippin' out. 

 **SAM  
** Start rappin' fo' realz. All dem murders... what tha fuck was tha demon tryin ta cover up, biatch? 

 **RUBY  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. 

 **SAM  
** What happened ta mah mother? 

 **RUBY  
** I straight-up don't give a gangbangin' fuck. Thatz what tha fuck I’m tryin ta smoke up fo' realz. All I know is dat itz bout you, biatch. 

 **SAM  
** What? 

 **RUBY (laughs)**  
Don't you git it, Sam?  
It aint nuthin but all bout you, biatch. What happened ta yo' mom, what tha fuck happened ta her playas. They're tryin ta cover up what tha fuck da ruffneck did ta you, biatch fo' realz. And I wanna help you figure it out. 

 **SAM  
** Why would you wanna help me son? 

 **RUBY**  
I have mah reasons. Not all demons is tha same, Sam. Not all of our asses want tha same thang. Me, biatch? (shrugs) I wanna help you from time ta time. Thatz all.   
And if you let me, there be a suttin' up in it fo' you, biatch. 

 **SAM  
** What could you possibly- 

 **RUBY  
** I could help you save yo' brother. 


End file.
